Cowboy Colt (2 page)

“Keep going. Keep going,” Dad urges.

“Dad, can we stop for Colt?”

“What? Ah. Yes.” Dad slams the brakes. “Ellie, finish the rhyme. Please?”

I roll down the window. “Colt, want a ride?”

He checks his watch. Then he climbs into the backseat. He and Ethan exchange
hey
s in sign. Colt learned sign language when I did, just so he could talk with my brother.

“Ellie?” Dad pleads.

“Sorry, Dad. You could end it with something like ‘Where can you go? I'll tell you where. To your number one friend. That's the number one Bear.'”

“Yes! Brilliant!” Dad says. The rest of the way to school, he keeps muttering to himself.

I turn to the backseat. Colt is frowning out the window.

“Somebody put grumpy in your cereal this morning?” I ask. This is what my mom says to me when I'm grouchy.

Colt glares my way. Then he turns back to the window.

Ethan raises his eyebrows at me. He taps Colt's arm and signs,
Looking forward to your birthday? One week from tomorrow, right?

Colt nods his fist to sign,
Yes
. But he doesn't look excited. Ethan and I go crazy before our birthdays.

Colt digs into his backpack and comes out with an envelope. He hands it to me.

I open it. It's an invitation to his birthday party. “Cool! Thanks, Colt.”

“My parents made me invite everybody in my class,” he says. “I didn't even want a party.”

I try not to read too much into that. Colt has invited me to his birthday parties every year since kindergarten. “That's cool,” I say because I don't know what else to say.

Colt shrugs. “Whatever.”

“Hey,” I try, “want to come over and ride Dream after school?”

When he doesn't answer, Ethan does. He signs,
Colt already promised to help me at practice before my game tonight. I want to learn to throw a curve like Colt's.

Colt still says nothing.

I'm glad he's helping Ethan, though. My brother joined the county's Youth League baseball team at the end of last season. Ethan doesn't say anything, but I don't think the other kids are very friendly to him. And the coach has called Mom to complain that he doesn't know how to coach a player who can't hear him.

Dad pulls into the school loading zone. Colt is out before Ethan and I get our seat belts off.

“Is Colt all right?” Dad asks.

“Far as I know.” I get out and thank Dad for the ride.

The sun is bright, and the sky is clear as I walk into school. But I can't shake the gray cloud that hung over Colt.

Colt Stevens is still my best friend. We've been through a lot together. So I guess it's up to me to cheer him up.

Only I have no idea how.

2

Dreaming

I pull out Colt's invitation. The party is Saturday, a week from tomorrow. It's in the morning, so we'll both have to miss 4-H horsemanship. No wonder Colt didn't want a party.

Tomorrow will be the first time I get to take my own horse to 4-H horsemanship, and I can hardly wait. Every other Saturday before, Colt and I have ridden Mr. Harper's horses. He runs the horsemanship class and owns so many horses that he can let kids without horses practice on some of his.

Colt has been in such a bad mood lately. Maybe a great birthday party is what he needs. And since I'm his best friend, I should come up with the best gift.

Only I need some hints. I race down the hall. Colt is standing outside our classroom. He's staring into the room like there's a lion inside.

“Hey, Colt!” I catch up with him and wave the invitation at him. “So you got any ideas for a great birthday present? I need some hints.”

He shrugs.

“Help me out here,” I plead. “What do you really want for your—?”

“Colt!” Brooks hollers from the classroom. I can't see him, but I know it's Brooks. His voice sounds like a grown-up's. “You going to stand out in the hall all day?”

Colt lifts his chin in a greeting.

Somebody else calls out, “Colt?”

“Yeah. I'm coming,” Colt answers. Then, without a glance at me, without a single word, he goes in.

I stand in the doorway, staring after him.

“What's wrong with you?” Larissa Richland elbows past me. “You look like you lost your best friend.”

I frown at her. She grins back.

Rashawn comes running up. Her braids dance around her face. She has the most beautiful hair. When her mother has time, she makes dozens of braids that reach the middle of Rashawn's back. I'm trying to grow out my hair. I want to be able to put it in a ponytail, like our teacher wears.

“Hi, Ellie,” Rashawn says. “Did you get Dream to stick her head through your window yet?”

We walk into class together. “Not yet,” I admit. “But she's
so
close.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Ashley Harper sets her pack down by her desk and comes over to join us. Rashawn and I are wearing jeans and T-shirts. So is Ashley. But her jeans are slim and stretchy. And her T-shirt has sparkles running through it. Her dad is Mr. Harper, our 4-H leader.

“Ellie is training her horse to stick her head right through her bedroom window,” Rashawn explains. “Isn't that cool?”

“Wow,” Ashley says.

“I haven't pulled it off yet. But Dream will get there. I can reach out the window and pet her now.”

“That would be so cool,” Ashley says. “Maybe I'd enjoy riding Dad's horses more if I could hang out with them. Like you and Dream do.”

I can't believe Ashley's saying this. For years, I've envied her. She can ride any horse in her dad's stable whenever she wants to.

Larissa scoots between Ashley and me. “Are you talking about your little pony, Ellie?”

“Dream isn't a pony, Larissa.” I'm trying not to get angry. But she always does this. It's like she can't stand to let Ashley talk to me. “Dream is a horse. And yes, we're talking about—”

“Dream? Is that what you call your pony?” Larissa laughs. “What a cute little name for a pony.”

“Dream isn't a pony!” I snap. “She's 14.3. That's 14 hands, 3 inches. I measured her myself. Fifty-nine inches.”

“And in case you forgot,” Rashawn chimes in, “under 14.2 is a pony. Over 14.2 is a horse.”

“Whatever. I'll bet you've never bothered measuring that farm horse of yours,” Larissa says to Rashawn. “You'd need a ladder to measure old Rusty.”

“Rashawn's horse is named Dusty, Larissa! And you know it,” I shout. A couple of heads turn. I lower my voice. “Plus, Dusty is so good-natured. Some people should be more like her.”

“Whatever,” she says. “So look what I got!” Larissa holds up her invitation as if it's her latest horse trophy. “Colt invited
me
to his birthday party.”

I hold up my invitation. “He invited the whole class.”

“Even
you
?” She looks at me like I have garbage on my face.

“Of course Colt would invite Ellie,” Ashley says to Larissa. “They've been best buddies forever.”

Larissa shrugs. “That's not what I hear.”

I try not to let on how much it hurts to have Larissa say this about Colt and me. Sure, he's been acting weird lately. But that doesn't mean we're not friends anymore. Even thinking this makes my stomach ache.

“Rashawn!”

“Cassie!”

Both girls squeal and hug as if they haven't seen each other for weeks. Cassandra Bennet is as popular as Ashley Harper. She could have anybody in fourth grade as her best friend. And she chose Rashawn. Good choice. I'm friends with them too.

Only I'm the
third
. Every time I've been the third friend in a group of three girls, I've always known where I stood. Rashawn and Cassie couldn't be nicer to me. And I'm grateful to have them as friends. But I know they're
best
friends with each other.

Like Ashley and Larissa are best friends.

And Brooks and Dylan.

And Colt and me. Or at least, I thought we were.

“See you later, Ellie!” Ashley calls as Larissa drags her away.

Cassie asks about Dream. She and Rashawn and I talk for a minute. Then the two of them start talking about some TV show they watch.

I wander off to my desk. Around me I hear kids talking and laughing. I realize I haven't said good morning to God yet. So I do that. I think about how Jesus never makes me feel like a third. Mom says my granny's favorite song was “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” Granny's right again.

The bell rings. We settle in while Principal Fishpaw reads announcements and tells us what's for lunch. He tells a joke about two fish. Nobody laughs.

“What is going on?” Miss Hernandez, our teacher, shouts.

I look up to see envelopes flying overhead. One lands on my desk. Somebody grabs it and flings it like a Frisbee across the room. There are at least a dozen envelopes sailing over desks.

Then I realize they're invitations to Colt's party. And he's the one throwing them.

Miss Hernandez grabs an envelope in midair. She opens it. “What is this?” She reads it silently. “A party invitation?” She frowns at Colt. “Colt, you know our rule about not handing out party invitations in the classroom.”

“Yeah,” he says.

Miss Hernandez tilts her head to the side. She only does this when she's starting to get angry. She made the no-invitation rule after Larissa brought hers to class. Only, Larissa invited just half of our class. I didn't get an invitation. Neither did a couple of other girls, who cried when they didn't get invited. That's when our teacher said no more invitations.

“Um, Miss Hernandez?” I say. “Colt's inviting everybody. Everyone in class gets an invitation.”

Her head straightens up on her shoulders again. “Oh.” The mad drains out of her. “Well, I'm glad about that. Still, I'd rather you do this after school. All right?”

Colt shrugs.

School starts for real. We begin with reading, which I love, and move to math, which I don't.

I try to listen to the number questions. But it feels like the numbers float over my head. They don't stay in my brain.

I turn and stare out the window.

I do some of my best daydreaming while looking out this window. Only now that I have my own horse, my daydreams have changed a little.

I wake up, and the first sound I hear is a nicker. It's soft as my pillow. I know it's Ellie's Dream. I go to the window and open it. She sticks her head inside. I kiss her good morning and stroke her blaze. Then I climb out the window and jump on her, bareback. “Let's get Colt,” I whisper.

We lope across the road to Colt's. The sun is beginning to rise. And there's Colt, waiting. He's sitting on his quarter horse, doing rope tricks. He waves his cowboy hat. We take off at full gallops, my best friend on his horse and me on mine.

“Ellie?” Miss Hernandez is standing over my desk. “Did you hear the question?”

“I . . . uh . . .” I look behind her, to Colt's desk. He always bails me out at times like this, when I've been daydreaming. I study his fingers, expecting him to start using sign language so I'll know what my teacher is asking me. It's what we do for each other. We sign.

But Colt's not paying attention to me. He's staring out the window himself.

“Ellie?” Miss Hernandez says again.

I clear my throat. Colt doesn't even turn around.

“I think you better stay in for recess. I can explain the assignment for you then.”

“Yes, Miss Hernandez.” My teacher doesn't act mad like other teachers would. I feel bad that I wasn't paying attention. But if Colt had helped me like usual, everything would have been okay.

Thanks a lot, Colt.

3

Fight

Halfway through recess time, when the rest of the class is outside, Miss Hernandez lets me take a bathroom break. On the way back to my classroom, I pass Ethan's room.